


All Growed Up

by kisahawklin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s14e01 Stranger in a Strange Land, Gen, except I wanted to see Becky all adult and shit, i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 08:52:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17936678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: "Are you related to someone named Becky?"





	All Growed Up

"Hey, Jody, what's up?"

Sam can't keep the smile out of his voice. He doesn’t have a lot of things that make him smile anymore, but hearing from Jody is always on the list.

_"Oh, you know, the usual. Prom, college visits, light hunting on the side."_

"Sound fun."

 _"Yeah,"_ Jody says, and hesitates. 

He can't say how he knows, but he does. He doesn't have awkward conversations with Jody, and this definitely feels awkward. He waits another beat, gives her a moment to get around to the reason for her call. When she doesn't quite get there, he asks. 

"So, you just calling to catch up?"

There's a lot to catch up on; a lot's gone down since they saw her last. 

_"Always,"_ she answers with a little laugh. _"But…"_ He can hear her inhale, the way she holds it and doesn't speak. 

"Spit it out," he says. Whatever she's got on her mind, better to address it right away than ignore it.

_"Are you related to someone named Becky?"_

It honestly takes him a minute to remember anyone he knows named Becky, before he remembers Becky Rosen and the fiasco that was their brief marriage. "Not exactly," he says. "Why?"

_"Well… there's just this Becky Winchester that's been texting me – a lot – and wanting to get in touch with you."_

Sam rolls his eyes. Of course she didn't change her name back. Of course not. He sighs. "She's a Winchester by marriage," he says. It's strange how the way Becky duped him so quickly and so thoroughly still stings.

 _"Okay,"_ Jody says, clearly still unsure of what's happening. _"I wasn't planning on giving her your number, but I thought maybe I'd ask if you wanted hers. She seems desperate to get in touch with you. Says it's a matter of life or death. Knowing you, I don't take that lightly."_

Sam rolls his eyes. He can imagine what's a matter of life or death to Becky.

Still, he takes her number. He knows better than to ignore those kind of warnings without thoroughly checking them out first.

~~~

He debates how paranoid he wants to be. He doesn't think Becky's any kind of threat to them, not after nearly selling her soul. But still, calling her from his own phone seems dangerous. Not dangerous enough to buy a disposable phone, or use someone else's, but enough that he's nervous when he finally sits down to call her.

It rings a couple of time before she picks up, and she's breathing hard when she does. _Hello?"_

It's definitely Becky. Much as he thought he'd forgotten her, the voice brings it all back. "Becky," he says.

 _"Sam?"_ she asks, still sounding breathless. _"I'm a little busy, can I call you back in a few?"_

That is so unlike her, he's startled into his standard politeness. "Of course."

_"Is this a good number for you? Or did you call me on a burner?"_

That is _definitely_ not like the Becky he remembers.

"This is good."

_"Great, talk to you in half an hour or so."_

She hangs up before he can even say goodbye and he's left staring down at his phone in disbelief.

He wanders the bunker, wondering what the hell he's doing. He's all for giving people second chances, but Becky's had more than one and messed it up spectacularly, so he's a little hesitant on that one. But still, she sounded different. Confident. Maybe she's finally grown up.

He makes some tea, watches the phone for a while. She doesn't call, not in half an hour, or an hour, or a couple of hours. Normally he'd say he'd dodged a bullet on this one, but something is just pinging him about it; she'd been doing something when he called her, something strenuous. 

Running, maybe. 

After three hours, he gives in to his curiosity and calls her back. It goes straight to voicemail.

She may not be his favorite person (or really someone he even likes, at all), but he's worried. If it was someone he cared about, he'd be concerned. The fact that it's Becky… well. He's still somewhat concerned. Not enough to seriously pry, not yet. 

He sighs and decides to go for a run to get rid of the weird nerves. He's not even sure why he cares, except that he's not so callous yet that he can blow off concern for another human being, even one as annoying as Becky.

An unknown number calls him on mile three. He slows to a walk before answering. "Hello?"

_"Sam?"_

A weird sensation of relief floods in; how could he even have been that worried? "Yeah. Is everything okay?"

_"Oh, sure, sure. Just ran into a snag, sorry for not getting back to you. Listen, I've got some information that you probably need to know."_

Sam's eyebrows go up, and he can feel the curiosity clawing at him. "Jody said it was life or death."

 _"Well, with you two, it's probably not that dire,"_ Becky says with a laugh. _"You know I always bet on the Winchesters."_

Sam laughs, he can't help it – her tone is so different from those early, embarrassing meetings, it's refreshing.

_"But it is pretty important, I think, and I don't really talk to Chuck anymore, but he did sort of give the impression that you two were always at the center of the big stuff."_

Shit, she doesn't know about Chuck. He clears his throat. "Well, Chuck would say that."

 _"Okay,"_ Becky agrees, though she sounds doubtful. _"Anyway, it's probably more than I should've said over the phone. I'm in Indiana. Can we meet up?"_

They set plans to meet up in eastern Missouri, and Sam is left staring at the phone after she hangs up, shaking his head.

~~~

His leg is jiggling. He's not nervous, mostly, there's very little that scares him or makes him anxious. Becky will likely always make that list, though. She's ruined a lot of the normal things in life for him, and he's not a big fan of dealing with people he's not interested in being attracted to him.

He takes a deep drink of his coffee, forces himself to calm down. Becky sounded almost normal; maybe she's finally grown out of that awkward phase.

The bell on the door rings and Sam looks up. A young couple with a baby. Definitely not Becky. It's a busy diner, a good place for a meet to talk about hunting things. He hopes her lead is either something he knows about or something insubstantial; maybe even that she's lying to get him here, like she has in the past. There's too much on their plate right now to deal with another potentially apocalyptic situation.

Another ring, another not-Becky. Random hipster coming in for the coffee, presumably, which is pretty good, Sam has to admit. He looks down at his watch. He's still early, another ten minutes for her to even be on time. He debates getting something to eat; he's not hungry yet, but even if all he has to do is drive home, that's long enough that he'll need some food.

He's just put in an order for a full breakfast when the door rings again. He looks up – it's a woman, but not Becky. She's in jeans and a flannel, steel toed boots, and sloppy ponytail at the base of her neck, and she's walking with a purpose.

Then he realizes she's walking straight toward him and he takes a closer look. It _is_ Becky. He would never have recognized her. Everything about her has changed; not just her clothes and the fact that she's not wearing make-up. She carries herself differently, she walks fast, she isn't looking at him with that doe-eyed stupidity. 

Her name is startled out of him. "Becky!"

That makes her smile, and it's the first time she looks even vaguely familiar. "Sam," she says, with genuine warmth in her voice. "It's good to see you."

She doesn't even wait for an answer, just slides into the booth and says, "I know it's probably not good to see me, so no need to play nice. But it is really nice to set eyes on you." She smiles and waves for the waitress. When she turns back, her eyes are sparkling. "I was hoping it was my crush that made you seem so unbelievably gorgeous – that maybe you were just a good-looking guy and I was young and desperate – but no, you really are devastatingly handsome. And getting better with age. It's completely unfair, Sam."

The waitress steps up just as Becky finishes, so there's not even time for her flattery to be awkward – besides the fact that it isn't the same as it was before; it's more an observation than a come-on, and she doesn't seem creepy and over-invested in the way that she used to. 

"Two eggs over easy, hash browns, sausage _and_ bacon, and a short stack," she says, and Sam can't help the way his eyebrows go up. "Oh, and coffee, please," she adds, smiling at the waitress, who takes the order, calls her 'hon' and goes off to add the ticket to the wheel.

"You look good too, Becky," Sam says, since she does and she's put him at ease at least somewhat with her demeanor. "What are you doing now?"

She looks down at herself and tilts her head at him. "Come on, you don't know a hunter when you see one?" She laughs and he can't help but join her. "I mean, I didn't really get the flannel thing until I'd been on a few hunts, but there's really just no other way to dress, is there?"

Sam grins. "No, not really."

"Well, anyway, I specialize in demons." Sam's eyebrows go up again. That is the last thing he would have expected. She smiles, a little sad around the eyes. "I know all your tricks, remember?" The waitress comes with her coffee and she grabs it and gulps it down. The waitress laughs and tops it up as soon as she sets the mug on the table. "Thanks, Delores," Becky says.

"No problem, hon," Delores answers, and wanders off to freshen up the rest of the customers. 

"So yeah, I've got several exorcism recordings on two phones, I've got the tattoo, I can make a devil's trap in under a minute." She smiles at Sam. "I'm safe and prepared. Helps that I'm small and non-threatening – they underestimate me."

Sam's trying hard not to be impressed but it's difficult. He hasn't seen a transformation like this in someone that isn't because they were turned into a monster. Shit, he hadn't even thought to check her –

Becky must see the panic in his eyes, because her smile goes away and her face gets set. "Just now thinking maybe you should've switched out the silverware and put holy water in my glass?" she asks. He looks chagrined, and her smile comes back – the sad one.

"It's okay," she says. "I got here early and switched out your silverware and put holy water in your glass," she says. "So it's only fair you get your chance. Give it to me." She holds her hand out expectantly.

It takes a second. He stares at her hand blankly until he realizes she wants his flask of holy water. He hands it over and she takes a drink. Then she holds out her arm, like he's going to cut her with a silver knife right here in plain sight. "It's fine," he says, waving her off, "I've got a sense for these things."

He's never told Dean but he's got a muscle in his back that twitches whenever a demon is near. He's only had it since the cage, and he'd never heard of anything like it before until Dean told him about Tara's knee.

"Huh," she says. "That'd be a good sense to have."

"Yeah," Sam says. "Doesn't hurt."

Delores comes with their breakfasts and they eat in silence for a little while. Sam's usually one to watch his cholesterol, but he has a thing for greasy diner breakfasts – not all their food, just the breakfasts – so he indulges, putting hot sauce on the eggs and eating the bacon with his fingers. 

After they've decimated the food and sat back with their coffee, Sam says, "So I hear you have news."

Becky takes a deep breath and sighs it out. "Maybe nothing," she says, "you know how the rumor mill is. But I wanted to give you a heads up anyway."

"All right," Sam says. "Where did you get your information?"

"Demon bar in Chicago," she says. "That town is crawling with monster, but they can sniff a human a mile away. I stay away from them. But there's a demon bar because Crowley liked to know what they were all doing, so they possessed monsters and came back to report to the home office at this bar. So much good intel."

Sam's mouth drops open and Becky's smile turns wry. "Don't worry, Sam, it's perfectly safe. I've got a really great glamour that allows me to flash black eyes at them. Pick a stupid fight, flash your eyes, and everybody leaves everybody alone. I'm a regular now, nobody even blinks."

It's really too much. Seven years is a long time, but to gain the kind of prowess Becky has, that's an incredible learning curve.

"Anyway," she says, looking down at the remnants of her short stack and pushing it around, "I have sketchy ideas of what you two have been up to for the last several years, and I know about Jack and Michael. Is Dean okay?"

It's a punch to the gut, the reminder about Dean. Sam swallows. "For now."

She nods. "Well, I know you guys will work it out. You always do. What I wanted you to know is, I think you've got a demon army if you want it."

That's a second punch to the gut. Sam hasn't heard anything like that for over a decade; it was all a ruse to get him to play host to Lucifer, but there was still a prizefight, and he'd sort-of won – and been nominally accepted by some demons as their leader. He'll never forget the one trapped with Dean in that house. Casey. 

"Okay, so, I heard about your showdown with Kip. Everybody did. And I don't know if you really know what you did there, Sam, but after Crowley's disappearance and Asmodeus' and Lucifer's deaths, there's a dearth of leadership in Hell. They're sheep, just like the humans they inhabit, and they're looking for a leader. A lot of them think of you as the de facto King of Hell."

"Wait," Sam says, thinking back. It's been a while, and all he really remembers is that Cas looked like shit and he was worried Jack might get killed. "That's not what I said." He doesn't think so, anyway. At least, it wasn't what he meant to say.

"Well, whatever you said, that's the word that got spread. And nobody's got the balls to come to you for orders, but in general, demons are quietly going about their business and killing Michael's monsters when they come across them. Discreetly. Never more than one at a time, because they don't want Michael to start sniffing around."

At this point, Sam's pretty sure he looks just completely poleaxed because who the hell is this Becky? "How do you even know all this?" 

"I told you," she says, pushing her plates out of the way and sucking down the rest of her coffee in one big gulp, "I've got an in at the local demon bar. More gossip than you can shake a stick at."

Sam just sits for a minute. He really just needs time to process everything. It'd be a tough pill to swallow coming from anyone, but coming from Becky – this Becky, not the creepy, stalkerish knee sock Becky – it's just more than his brain can handle. 

"Listen," Becky says, "I know it's a lot to take in, and you probably don't really want to rule Hell, but you've got a resource here that could help you out – especially since the angels are pretty much wiped out."

Damn, she really has good intel, he's got to give her that. "I don't even know how –"

"Kingsley." She holds her coffee cup up and Delores comes back to their table with the coffee pot. "He's not in charge, but he's the administrator that keeps things running while they're figuring things out. Go to him, tell him you're the new boss, and ask him who to appoint to your cabinet. Or inner circle. Or whatever you want to call the demons you delegate all the bullshit to."

Sam's mind is running a million miles an hour. Crowley was one of a kind, but there have to be other demons like him, demons that are more about efficiency and rules-lawyering than just wreaking havoc and being evil. "Okay," Sam says, looking at Becky again. He's starting to get used to this no-nonsense version of her. "Then I could use your expertise."

She grins, suddenly years younger, not quite the old Becky, but definitely related. "I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
